


Gagged

by Kayleecole21



Category: Norman Reedus - Fandom
Genre: Dominatrix, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kinky, Norman Reedus - Freeform, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, S&M, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1964955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayleecole21/pseuds/Kayleecole21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norman has been bound, gagged, and taped to a chair for a day; feeding into all of his captor's desires, but not having his own needs met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gagged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenCurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCurphy/gifts).



The room was pitch black and the smell of his sweat was radiating into his over sensitive nostrils. Not being able to see had forced the rest of his senses to compensate for his lack of sight; making every smell, every breath, every torturous pull against his restraints all the more hellacious. His wrists were bruised, cut, and bloody; bound together with tight, black rope, sporting identical knots to those binding his ankles. His bare chest was sweating against the duct tape that was wrapped around it, holding him in place against the cold metal chair in which he sat.   
Swallowing was becoming increasingly difficult as his jaw ached from being forced open for hours on end. The taste of the rubber ball shoved in his mouth, gagging him, was all too familiar after what had to be closing in on the 24-hour mark.   
He hadn’t eaten, he hadn’t slept; the miracle that he had not pissed down both of his legs was strictly credited to the fact that she had not given him anything to drink. He had let go of any self respect by this point; the more he seemed to beg, the more desperate he became, the more she seemed to get off on it.   
She had burnt him, bit him, cut him, beaten him, assaulted his every orifice, but was yet to allow him to come. She seemed to relish the act of torturing him; of building him up just close enough that his body contracted, that his breath stopped, that he truly thought she would finish him; before she would stop, leaving him so torn inside that tears ran down his filthy cheeks.   
Although he was not allowed, she had come so many times he had lost count. She had sat herself opposite him the first time, stretching her legs wide so that his eyes could devour every inch of her visible core. She had given him small, short, electric shots; making him scream as she plunged into herself over and over, shamelessly with a vibrator that buzzed so loud he could not hear himself think over the sound of it.   
She had let her fingers get the job done after she punched him in the face, blood running down from his mouth and pooling on his bare, burned thighs below. She had rode her own hand, bucking against fingers that were somewhere deep inside of her, as she sucked the blood from his raw and split lips.   
The last time she had come into his small prison of a room, she had been wearing delicious black tights that accentuated every curve her hips, thighs, and calves had to offer. He had watched as her beautiful feet slipped out of her black stilettoes; the stockings being transparent enough for him to see her brightly polished toes as she stalked across the concrete floor.   
She lit a cigarette that she quickly extinguished into his forearm after only two puffs, allowing him to grunt painfully against his gag. He had bucked wildly against his chair, feeling the duct tape pull at his chest hair and the rope break even more skin on his wrists and feet.   
“That’s not very good behavior, baby.” Her voice had cooed into his ears, infuriating him even further. He was losing patients with her games and was beginning to wonder if and when he would ever see the light of day again.   
He bit into the rubber ball lodged in his mouth, calling her every foul, disgusting word he had ever learned.  
“What was that, handsome? Do you have something to say?” Her red lipstick sat flawlessly on puckered lips as she whispered into his ear. “Let’s hear it then, what do you have to say?”  
The ball being removed from his mouth was nearly as painful as the cigarette burn, leaving his mouth momentarily still stuck in his locked jaw position.   
“Fuck you! You crazy fucking bitch, what the fuck is…”   
“18 hours of not being able to speak and that was the best thing you could come up with? Norman, baby, that’s a little disappointing.” She held his face tightly between her hands as she spoke. “Maybe I ought to teach that filthy mouth of yours a lesson, baby. What do you think about that?”   
She must have seen the fear dance across his pale blue eyes, because she bit her bottom lip and raised an eyebrow in excitement.   
She quickly climbed up him like a tree, bringing her heat level with his beaten face; pulling a handful of his long, sweaty hair backwards, forcing him to look up at her.   
“That tongue wants to say dirty things, it’s going to earn dirty work. Now…” she stopped to pull another smoke out of her tight corset, “for every sixty seconds that that tongue of yours doesn’t make me come, I am going to put a cute little burn in those flawless shoulders of yours; starting…now.”  
He stared forward between her legs, before looking up at her, lighting her cigarette. “What the fuck? Aren’t you going to take the pantyhose off?”  
“That sounds like a fucking personal problem, baby, and you’ve already killed ten seconds.”   
“Fuck.”  
Throwing his head forward, nuzzling his way between her milky thighs, he bit and pulled at her black pantyhose, attacking the thin material like some sort of rabid animal before finally tearing it to shreds and exposing her waiting heat. Without wasting another second his mouth engulfed her, his tongue delving into her folds, searching with desperation to find the buddle of nerves that would be his savior.   
“Yes! Fuck! What a good boy!”   
Smoke swirled around the two of them as she exhaled harshly, jutting her hips forward and spreading her legs wider.   
Finding her aching and engorged clit he quickly sucked, nipped, and kneaded it, feeling her thighs clenching around his head. His tongue took turns between attacking her budding nerves and lapping up every drop of gushing liquid sex that was quickly erupting from within her.   
Suddenly a searing pain bit into his right shoulder, making him scream obscenities and rock the chair again while she moaned, “Sixty seconds are up, try again baby.”   
Not wasting another second, he immersed himself between her thighs with a vengeance, letting his fat, liquid deprived tongue cherish the moisture she had to offer. She began bucking against him violently; closing in on her climax and trying like hell to ride his mouth like she had her hand.   
Without warning, her rocking motion forced his metal chair backwards, bringing them both crashing onto the concrete floor with an ominous echo. Neither of them, however, give gravity the time of day as she finally is in the position to rut against his mouth, riding his tongue the way he would kill for her to ride his cock. Her mouth lay open and slack jawed and she stared up at the ceiling, eyes clenched shut, the forgotten smoke rolling from her hand as she screams his name.  
“Suck it! Norman, open your fucking mouth and suck it.”   
His lips sucked and massaged just as her entire body went into convulsions, rocking against his bruised cheekbones, making him so hot he wondered if he could finally shoot his load without her touching his dick.   
Soaking his face, letting him have his first drink in nearly a day, she finally climbed off of him; eventually hoisting his chair up off of the floor, replacing his gag, grabbing her shoes, and leaving without a word. 

That had been hours ago.  
His body ached and he truly feared what she may do to him if she caught him sleeping. However, just when his eyelids were about to give into his morbid exhaustion, the door handle clicked.   
In a flash he was awake and more alert than he had ever been in his life, watching as the knob slowly turned. The door swung wide, letting light into the blackness, and revealing her standing there, completely naked.   
His cock instantly hardened at the sight of her perfect chest, her delicious thighs, her hair let down and falling across her shoulders.   
“I’ve decided that I need your cock, Norman. I can’t withhold myself from it any longer. If you can get me to squirt across your face like that, what can that pretty dick of yours do?”   
He grunted against his gag, the anticipation alone being enough to kill him.   
She quickly walked across the cold floor, positioning herself above him.   
“Look at you, good boy, already hard enough to fuck. How kind of you.”   
Sitting up on the balls of her feet, she placed his aching head at her entrance, allowing his painfully hard head to peak through into her already soaked core.   
“I’m going to fuck you now, Norman, but so help me, if you get any fucking ideas about coming before I do, going limp before I’ve had mine…” She quickly revealed a small, dangerously sharp scalpel in the palm of her right hand, “I will make you bleed until I think you’ve repaid your wrongs. “  
Without another word, she slid down. He instantly threw his head back in such epic relief that the last day suddenly seemed almost worth it. Her walls clung to him, aching against him, as she made no hesitation about beginning her vicious ride.   
Her breasts bounced in front of his eyes, allowing him to watch as a bead of sweat ran down between them. He choked and moaned against his gag as she pulled his hair back, biting harshly at his exposed neck vein. He tried to back into her, tried to meet her half way, but was finding his restraints far too tight to allow him such movement.   
She moaned shamelessly, crying his name out as her hair fell over her euphoric eyes. She brought herself up to his head each time, before slamming herself down viciously to his hilt, taking him all in over and over, as if every thrust was the first.   
Fear takes hold of his mind as he feels himself near the edge. He feels his dick twitch deep inside of her and his heart beat rise. He rolls his head back against shoulders, unable to control himself.   
She can read him like a book and quickly makes a clean swipe across his left pectoral, watching blood gush down his chest in a red, hot, bubbly mess. He cries, tears of desperation gushing down his face as the pleasure of her continual rhythm coupled with the pain in the fresh cut make him forget his own name.   
She runs her petite fingers through the red liquid, scraping against the fresh wound, before pulling the ball gag from his mouth and forcing him to taste his own blood. Surprising her, he sucked her digits, wrapping his tongue around them and making sure to devour ever drop.   
Temporarily slowing her pace, her face dips down against his chest to lap at his cut, before shoving her tongue past his tattered lips, their tongues pushing against each other, sucking blood and saliva from mouth to mouth.   
He suddenly bites her bottom lip, her blood gushing and filling his mouth.  
“Fuck!” Without hesitation she backhands him, leaving a shining red print against his pale skin.   
His pants are more sexual than painful as he slowly raises his gaze to challenge hers. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”   
For the first time since he became her captive, she does what he says. She slides herself up and down his slick and soaked cock, fucking him fast, both of them hungry for their climactic landslide.   
She rolls her hips against him and lifts herself up on her feet; lift, slam, lift, slam.   
“Fuck, Norman!”   
He whines uncontrollably as his orgasm nears, he watches as she takes his cock inside her; every bounce, every movement pushing him closer and closer to the release he has begged for.   
She watches him, she knows. She feels him tighten, hears his breath catch thickly in his throat. His eyes clench, and she quickly milks him with her walls, clenching and fucking; while pushing a finger painfully against his cut, gushing more blood down his pale chest.   
“Fuck! Fuck!”   
She feels his hot ropes erupt into her as the pain and pleasure collide, forcing him to lose his vision, his hearing, his mind.   
She continues to rock against him, riding out her closely following orgasm, making sure to not waste even a single second of Norman still remaining hard. 

After they both regain their temporarily lost sanity, she finally unties him. Gently removing his ropes, kissing his broken skin. She frees him, and slowly massages her lips against his; taking his hand in hers and leading him from the room.   
When they reach the still open door, as they near the light of day that sits outside of this sexual prison; Norman pulls her, spinning her around, slamming her into his chest, a devilish look sitting just under his surface.   
“Not so fast, baby. Now it’s my turn.”


End file.
